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Back to reality

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. Mine was fantastic. My whole family (including my sister Meghan’s Argentinean boyfriend who doesn’t speak a lick of English) was down in Florida for some fun in the sun. Really it was mostly golf in the sun, but it was definitely fun—and surprisingly uneventful. I was hoping to have some craziness to report, some drama between my father and the new boyfriend, an overcooked turkey, burnt gravy or at the very least a Melissa/Erin/Meghan smackdown, but everyone was on their best behavior. The only real excitement was when my mom ran me over a little with a golf cart and even that was pretty minor (not even a bruise!).

Now it’s back to New York, back to work, back to reality. I have to be honest, the best part about the long weekend away was not thinking about cancer or the motherhood dilemma at all. Our family vacations are so action-packed there’s not even time to read US Weekly let alone an actual book, so deep thoughts and conversations about your life and your future are nowhere to be found. Normally I find the constant go go go, everyone-talk-over-everyone-else environment exhausting and a little frustrating (after all, I love to ponder my uncertain future!), but this time it was just what I needed. It’s not that I’ve been obsessing about the baby thing, but I do feel like once you throw it out there, once you openly admit (to yourself, to your husband, to your faithful blog readers) that you want to start a family, it’s hard to think about anything else. Add to that the fact that I’m planning to go off my cancer meds to do so—yikes!—and that Nick and I have been getting all these fancy fertility tests done and it’s just about the only thing on my mind these days. I wish I could compartmentalize that part of my life, tuck away all the worries on a back burner and leave them there until a baby pops out and all is well. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. I can only hope that my vacation mindset sticks around for a while—living for the moment, for the day, for the cold beer (and loaded nachos) at the end of 18 holes. Here’s hoping!